Clean Boots, Dirty Thoughts
by MsBarrows
Summary: Alistair really likes Zevran in his Antivan leather boots. Good clean smutty fun, written for a k!meme prompt. Rated M for m/m sex.


**Written for a prompt on the k!meme:**

**"So, those Antivan leather boots that the Warden gives Zevran are pretty damn awesome. Not only are they practical but they also look good. Alistair can't help but notice this, and starts fantasizing about Zevran _only_ wearing the boots. ****Established relationship for first time, OP is not picky. However, OP would _adore_ it if it ended with Zevran riding Alistair."**

**Small fluffy sequel for a much darker story I wrote previously. 'Dark Days'. The prequel is not available on this site, as I felt the opening sequence was too adult for just an M rating. See my profile for a link to the AO3 posting of it if curious.**

* * *

><p>"I need a bath," Zevran groaned, throwing himself down on the ground and leaning back against the log Alistair was sitting on.<p>

"You and me both," Alistair agreed, pulling off his helmet and dropping it to the ground between his feet. He scratched furiously at his scalp for a moment, making the sweat-soaked hair stand up in uneven spikes. "Gah! Why can't there be a nice clean river handy? Or one of those splashy little streams like we bumped into everywhere in the forest when we were helping the Dalish."

"I'd settle for a full water-skin and a washcloth," Zevran said tiredly, and grimaced. "I reek. And I _itch_."

As if by magic, a bulging water-skin appeared hanging in between them. "Like this, you mean?" a familiar raspy voice asked.

"Kalli, you are a _goddess_ among women," Zevran exclaimed, reaching up for the water-skin.

"_Mine!_" Alistair growled, snatching it away before Zevran could touch it.

Zevran growled as well and rose to his knees, twisting around and tackling the larger man, trying to wrest the water-skin from his grasp. Kalli laughed and dodged away from the melee.

The assassin managed to get the water-skin away from the warrior and hugged it to his belly, curling tightly around it. Alistair was trying to force him to uncurl, both of them laughing, then the warrior suddenly swore and let him go, sitting up. Zevran quickly sat up as well and looked around. "What is it?" he asked, not seeing whatever had made the man desist.

"Kalli's hair is _wet_," Alistair pointed out. "And she's _clean_."

Zevran's eyebrows rose. "You're right," he agreed, and bounced to his feet. "You found water, didn't you!"

Her only answer was a broad grin. Alistair rose to his feet as well, and the warrior and assassin exchanged a single look, then began circling in on the female rogue. "Tell us," Alistair growled menacingly.

"Tell us where it is," Zevran agreed, frowning darkly.

"Or what?" she asked warily, backing away from the pair.

They exchanged a look, then looked back to her. "Or we'll sleep in your tent tonight _without_ bathing first," Zevran threatened.

That drew a laugh from her, followed by a mock-horrified look. "All right, I'll confess," she rasped out. "Killer found a stream, complete with a large pond, off _that_ way," she said, and gestured away from the clearing. "And if you both promise to bathe _thoroughly_ before coming back to camp, I won't even tell the others about it until you two get back."

"A veritable _goddess_," Zevran said, nodding approvingly.

"I begin to think you may be right," Alistair said thoughtfully.

Then the pair of them tackled her, and each kissed her on a cheek, ignoring her outraged squawks about their grimy, sweaty condition, all three grinning broadly as the two men snatched up their backpacks and headed off together in search of the pond.

* * *

><p>Zevran whooped as he caught sight of sunlight reflecting off of water ahead of them. He sprinted off through the trees ahead of Alistair, unbuckling his armour as he ran, skidding to a stop on the water's edge. He dropped his backpack to the ground and shucked off his gloves, elbow pads, shoulder pads, breastplate, and leather skirt, then bent down to unbuckle the pads protecting his knees.<p>

Alistair pushed out of the bushes into the small clearing a moment later, and stopped for a moment, just taking in the sight of the almost-naked elf. He smiled, finding his mind filling with pleasantly lascivious thoughts of his partner. He'd come a long way from the nervous virgin that Zevran had so thoroughly initiated into the mysteries of sex just a scant two months before.

Zevran growled out a curse as the last buckle refused to release, then dropped to one knee, giving him a different angle on trying to loosen it. He glanced up, noticing Alistair standing nearby, and grinned. "Not interested in bathing after all?" he asked, seeing as the warrior had as of yet made no move to strip off his own armour.

Alistair grinned. "Mmmm, no, I just thought I'd enjoy the scenery for a moment first."

Zevran's smile widened. He rose to his feet again, dropping the last knee-pad to the ground, and struck a pose, standing hipshot beside the pond, dressed in nothing but his boots and small-clothes. "Me, you mean?" he asked, voice a sultry purr. "I am looking particularly ravishing at the moment, perhaps?"

Alistair made an affirmative growling noise, all but licking his lips as he slowly raked his eyes over the slender elf. "There's only one things that needs to come off to make you _entirely_ ravishable," he agreed.

One of Zevran's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Only one?" he asked curiously, and looked down at himself. "I am still wearing three things, you know. Tell me, what should I remove? My right boot?"

Alistair snorted, then abruptly closed the distance between them, putting his arms around Zevran and tugging him close, before his gauntleted fingertips gripped the elf's buttocks firmly and lifted him up, right off the ground, pressing the near-naked elf's pelvis against his own fully-armoured one. He lowered his head and kissed Zevran demandingly. Zevran gave a startled yelp as he was lifted up, then raised his arms to lock over Alistair's armour-clad shoulders, supporting some of his own weight that way as he kissed the warrior back, both of them seeking to invade the other's mouth with their tongues. Alistair was soon moaning into Zevran's mouth as the elf won that particular contest. Finally they ended the kiss, the warrior lowering him back down to the ground.

"Keep the boots on," Alistair asked, voice low and intense in a way that sent an anticipatory shiver down Zevran's spine.

"You like my boots then?" he drawled, eyebrow arching again.

Alistair blushed a little and nodded vigorously.

"Then I'll keep them on," Zevran husked, deliberately letting his voice drop low, hiding a smile as he saw Alistair's pleased blush darken. He did love how easily the warrior flushed; it was one of the most charming things about him, he sometimes thought.

He stepped back and tugged loose the knot holding his small-clothes on, letting the scrap of fabric drop to the ground to join his armour. He was already partially erect from their embrace, and seeing the heated look the still fully-armoured man was giving him finished the job.

"Do you like what you see, Alistair?" he asked, voice still low, striking a pose again.

"Very much," Alistair agreed, his own voice rough with desire.

"Then undress as well, and we will enjoy ourselves a little before we take our bath, yes?"

"Yes," the man growled, and started unbuckling his armour, his hungry gaze remaining locked on Zevran, dropping repeatedly down to his boot-clad feet.

Zevran smiled, then stooped down and dug in a side pocket of his backpack, finding the conditioning oil and rag he used to clean his leathers. He rose and stood watching Alistair feverishly peeling out of the last of his armour, the man's erection making it obvious that Alistair was indeed very excited by the sight of Zevran dressed in nothing but the Antivan leather boots that Kalli had gifted him with when she was replacing all of his lost armour after the incident in Denerim.

Finally naked, the warrior gave a puzzled look at the things Zevran was now holding out to him, then took a hesitant step toward him, looking at him questioningly.

"My boots are filthy," Zevran said, almost purring. "I think you should clean them, before we do anything else," he explained, then handed the oil and cloth to the larger man. He glanced around, then stepped over to a large stone near the water's edge, leaning back comfortably against it, crossed his arms, and looked expectantly at Alistair.

Alistair visibly swallowed, then slowly walked over, and dropped to his knees on the ground before Zevran, sitting back on his ankles. Zevran raised one foot, and rested the sole of his boot on Alistair's thigh. Alistair shivered slightly, then carefully uncorked the container of oil and poured some onto the cloth. He tentatively touched it to the toe of the boot, patting at the leather with the oiled rag.

"No, Alistair," Zevran growled. "My boots are not _fragile_. Don't _pat_ at them. Put some elbow grease into it. Like polishing your own armour; either long firm strokes, or smooth circling motions. Work your way from the toes, up the arch of the foot, then along the shaft to the top."

Alistair glanced up at him, his blush darkening again, then did as he'd been told, his movements both firm and caressing. Zevran's eyes half-closed in pleasure as he watched the warrior at work, enjoying the massaging feel of the boot being cleaned, smiling slightly as he watched a fine sheen of sweat springing up on Alistair's skin, watched his erection bob with the force of his movements.

"Very good," the elf purred after a while, and withdrew that foot. "Now, the other one," he said, lifting it and placing it on Alistair's other thigh.

Another dark look from the man. Dark in more ways than one – his eyes were blown with desire. He looked back down, oiling the rag again before resuming work. Zevran hid a smile, seeing how Alistair was breathing in deeply through his nose occasionally, nostrils flaring, clearly enjoying the scent of the conditioning oil.

"Enough," Zevran said softly once the second boot was done. He slid it off Alistair's thigh, then rose to his feet, letting his hands come to rest on Alistair's shoulders, his own erection swaying tantalizingly in front of the warrior's face. He saw Alistair's hands clench tightly on the oily rag, and he looked up at the elf with such naked desire on his face that it momentarily took Zevran's breath away. He lifted his hands, twining his fingers into Alistair's hair, and tilted the man's head back, leaning down to kiss him hungrily.

Alistair moaned into his mouth. His hands rose, sliding lightly up the back of the boots, skimming over the tender skin in back of Zevran's knees, then higher, finally stopping on the back of the elf's thighs, fingers and thumbs closing with almost bruising force. He was trembling with desire when Zevran finally straightened again, cock rigidly erect against his muscular stomach.

"What do you want, Alistair," Zevran asked softly, stroking the other man's face tenderly. "Me, in you? Or you, in me? Or shall we both pleasure each other at the same time?"

Alistair swallowed heavily, then licked his lips. His eyes were so dark now that only the thinnest finger-paring of amber-brown showed around their dark centres. "You, on top of me," he whispered hoarsely. "So I can watch..." he broke off, turning dark red.

Zevran nodded, caressed him soothingly again, pushing his hair back from his face. "All right," he agreed. "Prepare yourself and me – use the oil we already have out," he added.

Alistair shivered visibly, then poured some of the conditioning oil out into his hand. He slicked himself, grunting a little and biting his lip in his excitement. Zevran leaned back against the rock again, spreading his legs slightly to give Alistair better access to him, and was soon groaning and hissing as well as the warrior's oiled fingers quickly stretched and lubricated him.

Finally he gestured for Alistair to stop, rose again, then stepped to the side and past Alistair. "Sit down, with your back against the rock, and your knees part-way up," he instructed. "Feet flat on the ground."

Alistair hurriedly moved to obey, and looked expectantly up at Zevran when he was positioned as directed.

"Very good," Zevran said approvingly. He picked up the oily rag, and swiped it a couple of times along the top of each of Alistair's thighs, then dropped it back to the ground. He moved to stand over the warrior, his legs to either side of Alistair's waist. "Hold my ankles," he directed.

Alistair nodded, and closed his hands around them, fingertips momentarily caressing the oiled leather before his grip firmed.

Zevran slowly squatted down, until his buttocks came to rest on Alistair's thighs. He reached down between his legs, finding the other man's erection. He stroked it a couple of times, making sure the skin was indeed well-lubricated, then stroked the pad of his thumb across the swollen tip, smiling as he felt slick moisture there and spread it out, teasing the raised rim, his fingertips toying with the sensitive underside. He enjoyed watching Alistair's face as the warrior groaned in pleasure at the sensation. Finally satisfied that they were both ready, he guided it into position as he slid carefully down Alistair's thighs. They both sucked in air in pleasure as the tip of Alistair's erection pressed against Zevran's entrance, then slowly began to ease inside it, Alistair's grip on Zevran's ankles tightening enough to draw a pained hiss from the assassin before the warrior realized what he was doing and hurriedly slackened off, whispering an embarrassed apology.

Zevran smiled reassurance at him, then resumed lowering himself down, groaning in pleasure as the tip finally slipped in, then _deeper_, slowly filling him up. He let himself slide further and further down Alistair's legs, finally coming to rest with his buttocks pressed to the warrior's groin, Alistair's erection buried to the hilt within him.

"Pull my ankles towards your head a little, slowly," he said softly. "Just a few inches."

He leaned back against Alistair's legs, as if he was reclining in a chair. The warrior, he noted, was staring down at his own lap, where his cock was disappearing inside Zevran.

"Can you see enough, Alistair?" he asked softly, smiling at the expression that crossed Alistair's face.

"Maker, _yes_..." the man whispered.

"Good," Zevran said. "Keep a good hold on my ankles," he added, then braced himself and pushed with his legs, sliding back up the oiled incline of Alistair's legs, just a few inches, then let himself drop down again. It was slow movement at first, but as sweat added to the oily slick between his back and Alistair's legs, and Zevran's entrance stretched and relaxed to accommodate the repeated passage of the warrior's girth, their pace picked up, became more energetic.

Alistair's eyes were locked on where they were so intimately connected, eyes as big as saucers as he watched Zevran sliding up and down on his cock. His hands were firm around Zevran's ankles on the upstrokes, holding the assassin's feet from sliding on the ground. Whenever Zevran was sliding downwards again, his legs pushing into Alistair's hands, the warrior's fingers would loosen and flex against the tooled leather of the boots, his palms sliding a little up or down against the leather.

Zevran could feel it when Alistair began to near his peak, his hips jerking up a little to meet each downward thrust, his breath deepening in excitement. The elf reached for his own erection then, stroking himself towards completion as well. Alistair's hands stilled, locking tight again, the warrior's gaze flicking back and forth between Zevran's erection and his own as if he didn't know which he wanted to watch more.

"_Zevran_..." Alistair gasped, then jerked upwards as he came, fingers digging into the leather of Zevran's boots hard enough that the elf felt dimly certain he was going to have bruises on his ankles. He was too busy crying out in pleasure as he tipped over the edge as well to care much at the moment, his seed pulsing out over his hands and Alistair's stomach as he came.

They both slumped back, Zevran still supported by Alistair's raised legs, Alistair against the rock, as they caught their breath again. Alistair's hands were still curled loosely around Zevran's boots, sliding slowly up and down in caressing strokes. They exchanged warm, lazy smiles.

"I suppose we should bathe, before Kalli begins to worry that we've drowned, and comes looking for us," Alistair observed after a while.

Zevran grinned. "I am pretty sure she knows exactly what we've been up to," Zevran said. "Or at least can make an educated guess. Why else would she make sure we knew she was going to see we had privacy for a while?"

Alistair laughed. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," Zevran said agreeably. "But yes, we should bathe. I am even filthier now than before we came to the pond. As are you."

"Except your boots, they're nice and clean." Alistair said approvingly, giving Zevran a teasing smile.

"Mmm, yes, on the surface anyway. I'm sure they're filled with delightfully filthy thoughts now."

Alistair laughed again. "They certainly are whenever _you're_ in them," he growled.

Zevran laughed as well, and the two untangled themselves, then finally had their bath.


End file.
